


You Have One Unheard Voicemail

by Unforth



Series: AO3 SPN Kink Meme Fills [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Masturbation, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Cas is away on a business conference, so he calls home just to hear Dean's voice. Dean misses the call, so he listens to the voicemail...Not until Dean hears Cas' voice does he realize...he's missed Cas, too...so, so badly...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: AO3 SPN Kink Meme Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841863
Comments: 28
Kudos: 210
Collections: The AO3 SPN Kink Meme





	You Have One Unheard Voicemail

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [theao3spnkinkmeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/theao3spnkinkmeme) collection. 



> My first fill for the AO3 SPN Kink Meme! I'm excited!! (and if you don't know about the AO3 SPN Kink Meme...I'm one of the mods, and we're just getting off the ground, and you should totally check it out - [it's here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/theao3spnkinkmeme)! All kinks and ships welcome.
> 
> Anyway, onto the prompt...
> 
> **Prompt I filled:**
> 
> Dean receives a voice text from Castiel, and it makes him feel things. 
> 
> Bonus: Dean cumming on his phone.
> 
> **
> 
> Unedited and unbeta'd. Here we go... :D

A fall of musical notes sounded soft, muted by the fall of shower water and the closed bathroom door. Confused - no one  _ ever  _ called Dean except with damn good reason, everyone relied on text message - Dean jerked the faucet to the off position, threw the shower curtain aside, and hopped out. The air of the bathroom was hot and misty; Dean grabbed his towel, flung the door open, and had regrets. 

The air  _ outside  _ the bathroom was fucking  _ cold _ .

The phone ring started again.

Grumbling under his breath, Dean hastily toweled himself off as he hurried across the room to where he’d plugged his phone in bedside. Caller ID named Cas, and Dean’s anxiety intensified. He picked it up, but wet fingers slid off the screen once, twice, as he tried to answer...and then the ringtone went silent and the missed phone call icon popped up.

_ Do I call him back pronto? _

Dean dried his hands off more thoroughly, opened the phone, and laughed as a text message popped up time stamped a couple minutes before the call.

_ Cas (7:48 PM): I’m calling for no reason. I knew you’d worry if you saw my name on the caller id so don’t worry nothing’s wrong. _

Shaking his head - fuck, but his husband knew him so well, was there anything sexier than that absurd text message? - Dean focused on drying off and scrubbing moisture from his hair and getting used to the temperature in the bedroom.

His phone  _ pinged _ to indicate he’d received a voice mail.

Confused, Dean took the phone up again, hit the button to call his inbox, turned on the speaker, and set the phone down while he went to pick out PJs.

“Good evening, Dean.” Cas’ voice was deep and tired and hearing it relieved tension from between Dean’s shoulders that he hadn’t realized he was carrying. “Sorry to bother you. I know that you consider phones hell devices. However, it’s been a long day of asinine conference politicking and I just wanted to hear your voice. Don’t feel you need to call me back. I listened to your voicemail message and that scratched the itch. I love you, and I’ll be back in two days. Sleep well.”

A computer-generated female voice took over as Dean hastened back to his phone sans pajamas. “Press 7 to delete this message. Press 9 to save this message. Press--” 

Dean pressed 9.

“Message saved. Press 4 to replay this mess--”

Dean pressed 4.

“Good evening, Dean.” Oh, but Cas sounded  _ good _ . Dean missed Cas...Dean  _ always  _ missed Cas...but hearing his voice drove home just how  _ much _ he missed him. “Sorry to bother you.” As if Cas would  _ ever  _ be a bother. “I know that you consider phones hell devices.” Dropping onto the edge of the bed, Dean pressed the phone to his ear and smiled fondly. “However, it’s been a long day of asinine conference politicking and I just wanted to hear your voice.” A shiver passed down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “Don’t feel you need to call me back.” Cas was so considerate, so aware, so loving. “I listened to your voicemail message and that scratched the itch.” And just  _ listening  _ to Dean could bring Cas comfort. “I love you, and I’ll be back in two days.” Fuck, but Dean loved Cas so stupidly much. “Sleep well.”

And  _ fuck _ , but that voice did things to him.

Before the automated inbox could prompt him, he pressed 4 again.

“Good evening, Dean.” As Cas continued to speak, the words drifted to meaninglessness. Dean focused on the timber and raspiness and depth of his voice, and desire rippled through his body. He’d already been half-way aroused, four days since intimacy with Cas and planning to beat one out in the shower. Only the ringing of the phone had distracted him, alarmed him, hurried him to other matters. Now that he knew there was nothing to worry about.

“...I listened to your voicemail message and that scratched the itch…”

Fuck yeah, it did. With a soft groan, Dean lay back on the bed, phone held in one hand, dick grasped in the other.

“I love you.”

Biting his lip, Dean rubbed at himself and soaked in Cas’ voice. Pleasure surged through his body, intensifying with shocking speed.

“I’ll be back in two days. Sleep well.”

But not  _ that  _ much speed. He was hardly even fully hard yet!

“Press 4 to--”

Fumbling, Dean found the right button and the message started again.

“Good evening, Dean…”

Dean switched to speaker phone again, set the phone beside his ear, and focused on his pleasure. Sonorous sound flooded his mind as he worked a hand over his cock, hitched a leg so he could finger his hole. 

“...hear your voice…”

“Oh, Cas…” he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. “...miss you too…” A soft  _ fwip, fwip, fwip  _ accompanied his palm passing over sensitive flesh. With every stroke, with every squeeze, with every brush of thumb over slit, or pinky against balls, or pointer around rim, Dean  _ glowed _ . It was like Cas was there with him, whispering sultry nothings in his ear - “...scratched the itch…” - and encouraging Dean - “...listened to your…” - and spurring him to give himself all the touches he needed - “...love you…” 

“Love you too...shit, can’t wait til you’re home...gonna ride you so hard...gonna come all over your belly...gonna lick it up afterwards...gonna--”

“Press 4 to replay this message.”

“ _ Shit _ !”

“Press 7 to delete this message.”

“Will ya...just shut up, dammit…”

“Press 9 to--”

Dean got a pre-come slickened hand on his phone, hovered a thumb over the 4 key, and then hit the red disconnect phone instead. He’d never get off during a 45 second message if every time ended with that feminine computer generated bullshit. Utterly unsexy. Grumbling that there was no “play voicemail on infinite repeat” auto-play setting, Dean set his phone aside, took his dick in hand again...and grinned, stopped fingering his hole, and got the phone again. A small twinge of  _ oh yuck that was in my ass touch nothing and use soap  _ dampened his enthusiasm, but screw it, he’d literally  _ just  _ gotten out of the shower and his ass was fucking lily-white clean. Rubbing over his cock, Dean flicked through to his camera...to self-mode...to video...and hit record.

“Heya, Cas,” he said. “Got your message. Wanted to let you know...just hearing your voice is enough for me, too…”

And he held the phone out to give a view of his torso and his vigorously masturbating hand...and went to fucking  _ town  _ on himself, stroking hard, letting every groan come out, making zero attempt to resist moaning “fuck, Cas, I miss you...can’t wait to feel you...can’t wait to kiss you...can’t wait…” Knowing he was recording, knowing that he’d be  _ watched _ , was almost as good as being able to hear Cas. He could easily conjure Cas’ voice to mind, talking about his conference, repeating his love. 

“Here it comes…” he whispered, lowering the phone so that his dick was front and center. “...oh, hell...that feels good…all this from listening to your voicemail, Cas...fucking love the sound of your voice...aw, fuck...” 

Squeezing his eyes shut, hoping his hand wasn’t shaking so badly that the video would be a blurry mess, Dean stroked himself, and swiped over his cockhead, stroked himself, and fondled his testicles, stroked himself, and squeezed at the sensitive skin of his shaft, stroked himself and strained to tease at his hole, stroked himself...and stroked himself...and stroked himself...and with a guttural, broken noise, he came, splattering the camera with semen.

_ That was...shockingly hot... _

_...is there a single good reason we’ve never actually sexted?? _

Breathing hard, flickers of pleasure still lighting his vision, Dean raised the phone to his face again, offered the camera a flushed post-orgasm grin, and said, “Miss you, angel. See you in a few days. Sweet dreams…” and stopped the recording.

His phone was sticky with white.

Good thing he still had his towel.

Quickly, Dean cleaned off the phone, cleaned off his hand, wiped over his crotch, and then navigated to his text messages.

_ Dean (8:11 PM): Incoming sext do not watch in public. _

_ Dean (8:12 PM): (one video attachment) _

Dean set the phone aside, retrieved pajamas, and was surprised not to have received a reply. Picking up the phone, he checked, and saw the icon that suggested Cas was typing, but there was no answer.

_ Cas (8:15 PM): … _

A minute passed, and another, and another.

_ Dean (8:18 PM): You okay there buddy? Nothing short circuited?  _

_ Dean (8:19 PM):  _ _ 🍆 _ 💦😆

_ Cas (8:20 PM): … _

Shaking his head, Dean sprawled back into bed, opened his kindle, and set to do some reading. Cas would text when he was ready. Dean wasn’t worried.

He managed barely a page when…

_ Cas (8:22 PM): (three image attachments) _

Dean flipped eagerly to his messages.

The first image was Cas, standing before a bathroom mirror, one hand tugging his pants aside to reveal his erection, the other holding the phone.

The second image was Cas, dick in hand, slack-jawed bliss obvious in the mirror.

And the third...the fucking third was Cas’ come splattering like white constellations over the chic black vanity counter top.

_ Dean (8:23 PM): Shit. Shit that’s hot. _

_ Cas (8:24 PM): Says the man who sent me Pornhub-worthy masturbation with a warning that it was a “sext” as though that would in any way prepare me for the reality of what you sent. _

It felt like a shocking new set of possibilities had opened up to them, a multitude of ways for them to be intimate while Cas was on one of his many business trips.

_ Dean (8:25 PM): That almost sounds like a complaint. _

No...the only really shocking part was that they’d somehow never thought of it sooner.

_ Cas (8:25 PM): Anything but. I love you, Dean. And your penis. And your sex face.  _

Life was about to get so much sweeter…

_ Cas (8:26 PM): But I can’t believe you came on your phone and then worried that I’d short-circuited something. Is your phone all right? _

...and sexier…

_ Dean (8:27 PM): I’m texting back ain’t I? _

...and kinkier…

_ Cas (8:27 PM): Yes, you are. And I have so many ideas for the future. We’ll have to have some long talks about cell phone functionality when I get back. _

And Dean couldn’t fucking  _ wait _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Check me out on social media!  
> Tumblr: [unforth](https://unforth.tumblr.com/) (very multifandom with a decent amount of politics/social justice)  
> Twitter: [unforth](https://twitter.com/unforth) (mostly MDZS/CQL, with a splash of multifandom and also a decent amount of politics/social justice, cause sorry, them's the times)  
> Discord: unforth#6748


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